There's no place like home

The Dread.

Last weekend Mr. TR and I helped our Pittsburgh Friends (our buddies from the ‘Burgh with whom we congregate to watch games, drink beer, and tell inside jokes) move into a new apartment. They have about a fifth the crap that we have, and they moved about two miles, and it was terrible. This has led to the beginning of The Dread.

Moving. Sucks.

I have no concrete plans for how we’re going to get a houseful of junk here back to PGH. I have a feeling Mr. TR is hatching all kinds of plots involving heavy lifting and bubble wrap, but I get a little queasy every time I think of that fateful day next year when 160 boxes marked “Misc.” have to be out of the house.

When we moved away, I promised to my deltoids that we’d never move ourselves again – there are too many reputable and trustworthy professional movers for us amateurs to go it alone. A funny thing happened though. We didn’t win the lottery. Go figure. So we’re looking forward to another homegrown move, trying to amass as many favor debts as we can. We’re starting with Pittsburgh Friends, and I think we’re getting the better deal. We have like five times the crap they do.